Those Who Accept The Protection Of The Stars
by Chiiharu
Summary: His promises are like the stars; the darker the night the brighter they shine. Genesis/OC. Lemon.


**A/N:** Hi, guys! XD

Well, let's see... Where do I start? XD Okay, so here's the story behind this. In March, I put up a poll that asked people what they wanted me to write. And believe me, people voted. And this was what the people wanted. XD What you wanted, actually. XD So this was born. Well, I had about six other fandoms I could have written a lemon for, but I chose this one because you all begged me to and thought it would be a good idea. XD

... Um, thanks?

Also. Eat these apples, because I started this yesterday. *sticks out tongue*

And look, my April_ isn't over! _XD

So first I want to dedicate this to **xx-Addict-For-Drammatics-xx **and **.'Somebody's Nobody'. **I think that's how you spell their pennames. XD Because they bugged me for this. This is my FIRST lemon, guys, and I've never attempted to write one before in my life. D:

Please don't laugh at me? XD;;

I also want to thank **Kitty Kat K.O.** for reading over this and giving me the okay to put this up. XD Oh, and **My Dad**. Because he's the spakling English major in the house and told me what NOT to do... XD

But more than anything, I dedicate this to **Raven the Ravenous**, because we got engaged recently. XD Hi, Raven! He's my fiancee. XD

So this is my gift to everyone who voted on said poll. Happy April, everyone! XD

And that's for voting for me! *waves*

Also. XD Rei. She's helping me kill my typos over Yahoo. XD;;; Thank you, Rei! XD

* * *

**-: Those Who Accept The Protection Of The Stars :-**

All the First Class SOLDIER wants to do is relax.

He sighs, fidgeting with the keycard to his dorm-room. As a SOLDIER, they all have the pleasure of having rooms inside of Shinra HQ. Of course he has a home elsewhere, but today he decides that he really needs to get his rest. Fumbling with his keycard, he opens the room, turning the light on with a flick of his index-finger. Honestly, he hadn't expected his room to be so clean. It had been what? A couple of months since he had last set foot in the place?

Oddly, his dorm smells of a fruity floral fragrance—something of apples, sweet peas, passion fruit, and musky woods. "Gaia... This is odd," he says, perking up. He takes a couple of steps into his living room, noticing all of the various flower pedals thrown all over the floor. Could this be an indication of someone being here? Waiting for him? Someone that, perhaps, knew how tired he would be? He smiles playfully, walking up the staircase. The fragrance gets stronger, completely taking over his sense of smell. As he walks into the hallway he sees her, Mireya, standing right in front of his doorway, holding a very large box.

He notices her first, obviously, judging by the way she is turned in the other direction and has an oblivious air about her. He sighs once more, touching his forehead with his index-finger. "Love...?" he says, making her flinch. She swiftly turns around, almost dropping the gift she made for him. Her eyes fixtate on him as he tries to stifle a chuckle of some sort. He _is _confused... He doesn't know why she's in his dorm, or why she has a big box in her hands. He understands that today _is_ Valentine's Day, but unfortunately it is almost over. It's late now—so why would she, of all people, waste her time trying to give him a gift?

She sees him almost everyday in Shinra HQ, so shouldn't she have waited?

Whatever the case is, he is genuinely happy to see her.

"Here you are, Genesis," she says quickly, bowing her head and putting her arms out in front of her. He smiles; he can see the pink blush on her cheeks, regardless of her trying to hide her face. He appreciates all of her efforts to keep him happy, to show her affection towards him. Boldly, she glances up at him, looking right into his pools of aquamarine oceans. "Don't take this the wrong way I... I just wanted to give you something." She stands up straight, tapping her fingers on the box. She gazes at the ground, frowning a bit. "It's not fair... It's not fair how they made you work all day. They do know you have a life now, don't they?"

He chuckles at her reaction. A life, hmm? He is a dedicated SOLDIER. He knows she would have been a little upset, but he never realized how mad working on Valentine's Day would make her. He walks towards his desk, sitting lethargically in his chair. He brushes some of his hair out of his eyes. All the while, Mireya looks at him, pouting. "That's not really fair at all, Genesis! I went through all of this work to buy you a gift and you don't even open it? That's not fair!" He smirks at her, turning around in his chair.

All he wants to do is sit down and relax. Sure, he loves her, and sure, they haven't confessed to each other yet, but he found himself thinking every time Mireya pouted at him. Frowned at him. Talked to him, even. Feeling defeated, the blonde-haired Turk places the box on top of the desk, eying the First Class SOLDIER. She puts her hand on her hip, scowling. "Open. It," she demands, pointing at the overly-wrapped gift. Genesis continues to smirk playfully at her, looking at the box and sighing. "I got it for you, so you should open it! C'mon Shakespeare Boy, you're being a jerk, you know that?"

"There is no hate, only joy. For you are beloved by the goddess. Hero of the dawn, healer of worlds..." he says, looking up at the ceiling. Mireya grits her teeth, stomping her foot on the ground. He notices how angry she is and persists on further exasperating her. She knows it is all in good clean fun, but this time his antics are—more or less—hurting her a little. She put everything she had into that box. Her dreams, her aspirations—all the things that she simply could not say. A gift is a gift... But this is more than just a gift. Her feelings are in that box, ones that she knows he is aware of, but ones that she refuses to let flutter from her lips. "Love, I will open it once I get done with this paperwork, okay?"

"No, it's not okay!" she protests, playing in her hair. "I didn't wait to buy you this present, you know! And cut the LOVELESS crap. I hate LOVELESS. Oh, and now that I think about it, I hate you, Genesis! I really hate you. I hate you more than I hate anything else in the world! But oh, I'm going to watch you open that gift, Shakespeare Boy. You can quote all the Shakespeare and LOVELESS you want in the world. So go ahead and do your paper work." She pauses, inhaling the smell of apples radiating from him. She turns around on her heels, fixing the cuffs on her Turk jacket. In a burst of anger, she folds her arms and plops down on the edge of his bed, pouting. She hopes that he will turn around and notice her.

LOVELESS.

The Goddess...

_His job._

She feels as if he puts too much merit on those things. No, she feels betrayed by him. Thrown away to a pack of wolves. Left out in the cold. She stares at him as he tends back to his work. Her fingers dig into the blankets on top of his bed. Sure, she was busy with her work too, but could he go on for five minutes—_five minutes_ without saying something about LOVELESS? She does not even believe in "The Goddess". As far as she knows, The Goddess is a mythical creature created for the sake of a play. A poem. A story. She waves her legs back and forward, eventually gazing back at the First Class SOLDIER. He feels her eyes glue to the back of his neck but doesn't say anything. He continues to sign paper after paper, making sure they all have the same, monotonous signature—

"Genesis! When are you going to be done?" she asks, impatiently. "I really want you to see what I got you..." He glances at the stacks of papers damn-near touching the ceiling. Surely she does not think he will be able to sign all of these papers by the time Valentine's Day is over... Let alone by a reasonable hour. How she wasn't tired was beyond him. He turns around in his swivel chair, grinning playfully at her. "Don't tell me you don't have time Genesis, either! All you have to do is open it, you know!" He sighs again. He had almost forgotten about how impatient she was.

"Love I—" he begins, glancing back at his papers, "I just do not have time. I have to be up early in the morning tomorrow. Do you not have work to do as well? Is it not strange that desire should so many years outlive performance?" She tilts her head at his comment, trying to figure out what it is that he just said. Eventually the Turk gives up, laying on her back. She glances at the ceiling, a frown on her face. She blows a strand of hair out of her eyes, blinking.

"I take that as a 'no', Shakespeare Boy?" He smiles before turning around in his chair, signing more papers. He begins to sign them again—it is his duty as a First Class to complete his own paperwork, after all. As he gets his job done, he can't stop to ask himself questions. Why is she still in his room? In his dorm?_ How _did she get in without the keycard? Just her _being_ there is unwinding him. Of course he knows she's oblivious to it... But her persistence—it got on his last nerves.

He is a calm man, however. Gentle and levelheaded. Genesis has never lost his cool, nor had the gull to yell at a woman. It is something that he just doesn't do.

Without turning around, he puts his pen on the desk. "Love, you would not mind leaving now, would you? I will call you to let you know I have gotten the present." He hears her moan and turns around, generally concerned. "Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleeve of care, the death of each day's life, sore labor's bath, balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, chief nourisher in life's feast. Sleep, Love. You need sleep, do you not? I suggest you go on and get it." He smiles at her, letting her know that he isn't necessarily kicking her out—more-so just being concerned about her well being. Still, she takes it the wrong way, like he predicted she would.

She has every right to be upset... But his being a bit irritated by her is justified too. He hates her for being unaware of what she does to him. He hates her for being by him all the time. Sacrificing herself for him all the time, even though he doesn't deserve her kindness. He hates the way she persists on smelling whenever she's around him, and he really hates the attitude she gets when she doesn't have her way.

She drives him _insane,_ but he will never tell her that, because it's just not in his nature.

He knows how to compose himself. No matter how much of a problem she may be. He's always liked her company... Just not like this. Never like this. It's late, he's tired, and all he wants to do is get some—

"You're kicking me out, huh Genesis?"

"That is not what I said, Love," he answers, his jade-green earring jangling as he returns to his work. "I just need to concentrate is all." He puts that as nicely as possible. He even retains the smile on his face. He scans her, taking another look at her work-uniform. Quite frankly, she _is_ pretty dirty, and she _was_ just laying on his bed just a second ago. Still, he retains himself. He loves her way too much to yell at her. He would never think of doing such a thing as that.

"Please, Genesis?" she asks again, standing up on her two feet. "I promise it'll only take a second! And then I'll leave!" It is now that he starts trying to guess what she got him. Half of him wants to get it over with; he is planning on just opening the box and telling her how much he loves whatever it is that she got him, but he doesn't want to lie to her. The other half wants to wait until morning. Although he does love her, he loves the distressed face she makes when he teases her even more.

He doesn't just tease her for the fun of it. He honestly tries to get back at her _for teasing him._ He wants to blame it on her obliviousness—but no one could be that dumb, he figures. The way she smiles, the way she laughs, the way she asks him to open her gift to him... Why does she persist on torturing him? He knows she has to be doing this on purpose. Her smile—her smile that once made his heart flutter now indicates feelings of pain and hatred inside of his soul. Oh, how he hates her and everything that she has become...

They've known each other for a long time, so he should know enough to know whether she does this on purpose, but... She waves her hands out in front of him, trying to see if he will answer her question. He blinks, turning towards the Turk. "Are you falling asleep with your eyes open, Genesis? That's something you really shouldn't do, you know. It makes you look like an idiot." Sleep. It is something that he wants to do, but unfortunately, with her standing right in front of him...

Glancing at the stack of papers sitting next to him, she reaches for them. "Okay Genesis, I should help you with your work so you can see what I got you—"

Suddenly, he grabs ahold of her wrist, making her eyes dart towards him. All of his senses are being taken over by her scent. She is too close to him. Way too close.

"Genesis...?" she asks, tugging her arm away from him. He refuses to let go of her, listening to the sound of all his papers tumbling on the ground. Why does he think he is going to get some work done with her around anyway? Every time she is around him, thoughts fill his head—methods to _make_ her seize her teasing. When he doesn't answer her, Mireya finally is able to take a couple of steps back, watching the crimson SOLDIER get up from his chair. Her gift falls towards the ground as he swipes it off the desk, his eyes dark and low. "Kya, I bet I did it again this time, didn't I...?" she says. Yes, he knows she's afraid of everything.

Including him.

No matter how much she denies it.

"Genesis! Don't do this! I was just kidding! B-but I really wanted you to open your gift! That's why I decided to bug you today, Shakespeare Boy!" She thinks using a nickname will get him to calm down, but that is quite the opposite. It only fuels his fire. Just the way 'Shakespeare Boy' rolls off her tongue is enough to encourage the steps he takes towards her. Eventually she falls back on the bed, waving her hands out in front of her. "I didn't realize you were so dedicated to your work. Sheesh, all you were doing were signing a few papers..." She glances at the ground, noticing the mess she just created. He frowns a bit, standing right over her.

That is farthest from the truth. He is trying to rid himself of the thoughts he is having of her.

Lying in his bed? Who does she think she is...?

That does it. She knows what she is doing, and he plans to put an end to it. He looks into her azure eyes, that feeling... That sensation coming back ten-fold. She narrows her eyes, scoffing. She thinks she knows why he looks like that.

"It's not a big deal, Genesis."

"It was my _work,_ Love," he replies, as levelheaded as possible.

"Easy for you to say! It was just a bunch of signatures! Work my ass! And you couldn't open up my gift why?"

"To avoid falling victim to forgery Love, one must try to sign all things as closely as possible," he says, trying to interject his point. She smacks her lips at such an accusation, rolling her eyes and sighing. Excuses. That's all he ever makes to her. What is more valuable than spending his time with her? She gets jealous. Angry. And it's written all over her face. He scowls. She has no reason to be angry, why would she be angry? Their eyes lock—although she feels as if she is being suffocated. She isn't backing down, and neither is he. After a prolonged silence, he narrows his Mako-infused eyes, scoffing. "So you are going to stay here Love? How poor are they that have not patience? What wound did ever heal but by degrees?" She scoffs just as much, matching the anger in his face.

"No, idiot. Not until..." She pauses, pointing her index-finger at the floor. "Not until you open my gift."

That is it. He's through with the gift. His gaze intensifies—as if he wants something from her that she doesn't have. The way he looks at her actually scares her because she doesn't know how to make him stop. Inhaling her scent again, he slyly smirks, making her twitch fear. "Genesis...?" she asks, biting her lower-lip. Maybe she is driving this into the drift. Maybe she should leave while she has the chance. "What's with the weird look...?"

He doesn't give her an answer, only sucks the air out of her body completely. Her back turns to mush as she submits to the weight of Genesis as he overtakes her mouth with his own. She blinks twice before falling down backwards as he laps up whatever trace of surprise left in her body with his tongue. He refuses to let her speak, let alone breathe. He wants her to suffer, just as she made him. All of those days returning to him in an outbreak of sweat... Perspiration sliding down every part of her body...

All those days of just standing in the rain, waiting for him to return to her... Just_ letting_ herself be soaked... He is going to end it all, here and now. Of course she thinks he is playing. They always play like this, right? He teases her, leads her on, and then they kiss for a minute or two. She knows friends don't exactly play around like that, but neither one of them are ready to confess their feelings for each other... So why start now?

And if she can't breathe, she most definitely can't swim, and she finds herself drowning in his touch, letting herself be carried away by the feel of his lips. His lips are soft—like they always are—but he twitches at the taste of hers. She wants to show him that she cares; that he isn't alone in this kiss and so she tries her best to match his proficiency in kissing her. His tongue traveles to every contour in her mouth, making sure he claims what is rightfully his. He had always been so gentle about kissing her... So affectionate...

This is different.

There is something about the way he is kissing her now that stirs something inside of her. He seems full of urgency. He seems _desperate_, is more like it. All this time he has been holding himself back from her—trying not to force her into anything she didn't want to do. But more than anything, he has just been afraid of hurting her in the process of releasing all of the things that he feels for her.

Seconds turned to minutes.

Minutes turned to hours.

Hours turned into days.

Days turned into weeks.

And finally, weeks turned into months.

_Many_ months.

Did she really think he would be able to hold himself back now? He grabs both of her wrists, pinning her to the bed, denying her of any air. She plays along with it until she starts to think about their kiss and why it is lasting for more than a couple of minutes. Did she really make him that mad? He hates her. She is sure of it. The way he calls her "Love"... It isn't just a harmless little nickname... She is sure he calls her that because he wants her to know that he is something she simply cannot have. He is known all over Midgar... Women throw themselves at him all the time. So what makes her so special...?

She tries to fight against his tongue, but ends up failing in the process. With the way his kiss is now, she starts to ask herself if she's in the same room with the same Genesis that tried to kick her out a few minutes ago. From that to _this? _What did she _do?_ He abruptly broke the kiss they shared, and Mireya took this time to first breathe. She blinked, half-hoping he would release her wrists and and half-hoping he would let her leave. However, before she gets a chance to say something, he attacked her swollen lips, yearning to taste the flavor of Banora apples on them. He bites down on her lower lip, prompting her to squeal in pain, only to be silence by him swirling his tongue back inside of her mouth.

She couldn't see this before, but now she knows that he really loved her. The passion falling from his body write words for her in a secret code that only she can understand. Now she feels sorry. Dumb. Weak. All along she had been making the First Class SOLDIER feel this way about her. He wasn't trying to kick her out just to be mean. He was trying to stop _this_ from happening. Now it is too late, and unfortunately his body is too heavy for her to try and break away from his ravenous embrace.

She can't explain what he has just become. An animal? Or someone trying to vent their love...?

It all starts to make sense to her now. He reads LOVELESS because he didn't want to think of her all the time. He loves going to work because it means he can take his mind off of her. He thinks about her every chance he gets, and it almost makes her want to cry beneath him. He isn't being a jerk after all, and she has accused him being something he wasn't. She has to let him know she is sorry... Without hesitating, she curls her fingers in his brown hair, sighing as she pushes her face closer to his. He glances down at the Turk, his once blank-face being overtaken by a scowl.

There she goes again.

Leading him on.

Looking beautiful for no reason at all... _Tempting _him. His face is just as red as hers from kissing her so hard. He parts his lips, only slightly, not knowing what his next action will be. "She's beautiful and therefore to be woo'd. She is a woman, therefore to be won," he says, tilting her chin so she can meet him at the correct eye-level. "I'll follow you and make a heaven out of hell, and I'll die by your hand which I love so well," he says huskily, licking his lips. "I'll show you_ a new world_ and introduce you to your "god", Mireya. Love. Or do you not_ believe_ in such a thing?" he says, breathing against her neck. Her face flushes at his question and everything that it implies. It isn't before long that her whole body heats up, her throat drying at the thought of answering him. He asks her a question, and yet she already knows what will happen whether she answers it or not.

It's not even a question.

Or at least, not now. He thinks she can't handle him, and that makes her burn with a little rage. He is trying to warn her for what's to come. "I—of course I—Genesis you—" she utters, unable to form a coherent sentence. And at this he smiles.

"Love, I think you should not even get that," he says, an underlying tone of masculinity overtaking his voice. "I think you should atone for your sins under The Goddess... I think you should be _penalized _for your sins, hmm?" She jumps at the sudden eagerness in his voice, leaving a trail of kisses down her neck. "I'll receive your gift yet," he purrs, making her squirm underneath him. He begins to take his gloves off, tossing them towards the other side of the room. Her body eagerly awaits for whatever he plans, making him smirk—granting him the knowledge that this is a battle he knows he can win. "That's it, Love. Now do not make too much of a fuss in receiving mine..."

He nibbles on the lobe of her ear, making her gasp. Still, she decides that she shouldn't spoil such a moment with confused sentences and phrases. He smiles, his fingers tracing the line of her neck. "Very good," he says, smirking against her neck. "Good girl," he whispers, making her body ripple in anticipation. His lips press hard against her own, demanding that she open her mouth. To this she freely obliges, letting him explore her a little while longer. Her body instinctively arches upwards as she feels a tingling sensation on the right side of her chest. He lets go of her, bringing his left hand towards her collarbone... Barely touching her skin at all. It is this same sensation that makes her shudder in joy. He releases her lips, his teeth gnawing at her bottom lip as her pulls far as he feels it can go. With his tongue, he licks her neck, bringing it back up to her lips and engaging in another kiss.

"Listen to what I say Love, and we'll unlock the final act of LOVELESS," he cooes, smiling. "Love comeforeth like sunshine after rain..." She smiles as he quotes Shakespeare again—it's perfect for the occasion. Mireya finds herself losing control of her breathing patterns, panting as his fingers dance across her body. If there is one thing she knows about him, it is that he likes to take his time. Being the skilled First Class SOLDIER that he is, he knows exactly where he wants to go. His right hand travels slowly underneath the small nub of the mound below it, his other hand dancing across her collarbone. With his other four fingers on his right hand, he continues his sensual pattern, bunching up her pants as he swirls his index-finger around the black fabric. Still, he isn't too keen on letting her breathe, conquering her mouth once more. His free hand travels to the other side of her chest, as he explores 'unknown' parts of her body, enjoying the way she seems to not know what she is doing.

Overtaken by the euphoric sensation of his touch, her vision blurs—but only a little. She looks at the ceiling and then through the window, not knowing what she should focus on. He smiles as he kisses her, happy that he has so much control over her now. Everything around her gets hotter, but she feels a growing heat... A raging fire building up in her lower region. Going into a panic—not knowing what else to do—she tries to kiss him back only to fail again. He takes full control over her mouth, and she can only appreciate the tingling sensation growing between their kiss. This is how it always should have been. Genesis smirks against her lips as her fingers begin to twitch. He finds joy in the way she moves under his clutches.

He let go of her wrists a long time ago, but the way she lifts up her arms and puts her hands on various spots of the bed makes it seem like she is still constrained. And she has every right to think like that because she simply cannot express her feelings towards him in the way he is asserting himself. Then again, she was never the one being tortured day in and day out. Without actually meaning to, she melts again and falls victim to his kiss, her eyes fluttering to the back of her head as she grabs his free, wondering hand with her right one, almost shocking the First Class SOLDIER. Desperate to keep his position, his dominance, his kiss on her becomes more ravenous. She, in a desperate attempt to keep whatever hold she thinks she has on the situation, tugs at his shirt, pulling off the black velcro-straps crisscrossing over his chest. She not only pulls them away, but they_ snap_, falling on the floor.

He pulls his hands away from her, taking off his crimson coat with a calm air about him—something that confuses the Turk. He had just been so rough with her a moment ago... He sits his coat on the ground with his left hand, taking hold of both of her hands afterwards. "Never... Interrupt the speaker when he is giving his poem, Love," he berates, brushing his lips against hers. She shudders at his touch, her eyelids flickering open. "You have to hold all your questions until the end of my story... Else you'll never get the moral of it."

She does not want the moral of the story.

She wants him to carry on with what he is doing. He smirks at the wanting look in her eyes, letting her go and practically _ripping her shirt apart_—her Turk uniform. The buttons escape to separate parts of the room, bouncing in a haphazard rhythm as she scowls at him. "Genesis!" she carps, turning her head. She can't sit up because he is leaning over her. "It's going to cost me a lot of money to buy a new uniform you know! You're an idiot!!" He doesn't answer her, working the remains of her blouse over her shoulder-blades and above her head.

"I'll simply buy you another, Love," he says briskly, gazing at the bare, pale skin that was hidden underneath her shirt. She growls at him, her blue eyes delved in rage.

"I want my old one you bastard—" Before she gets a chance to finish her sentence, he traps her further beneath her, laying on her, practically. "Gen—_hah_—sis," she moans as he puts his hands down next to her head. Her body reacts to the absence of his touch. She can smell the spearmint on his breath. He glances at her half-naked body, biting her lower-lip once more. With her lip still in the restraints of his teeth, he glances at her face, making her flush red. He kisses her once more, parting his lips.

"No one told you to talk, Love," he reminds her, licking her lips before he intrudes her mouth once more. And she feels as if this has been going on for hours—him kissing her. She willingly lets him back in, savoring the taste of his lips against her own. He is right. No one has told her to talk and she does not want to. She wants him to lead the way for her, showing her what is right and what is wrong. He had been doing that for her all along, lighting up the darkened path in front of her. And now... And now he was doing this for her. Showing his _affection _towards her. And she doesn't even ask for him to. She wants to cry, but she parts her lips only to breathe for a second, trying to collect all of her thoughts.

Her seven senses are raging all over the place, making a mockery out of her.

He smiles at the look on her face as he begins sucking her lower-lip, making her back arch once more. He brings his tongue down her neck, going over the places where he's left a red tint on her skin. "Poor love, did I hurt you...?" he asks mockingly, to which she twitches at. He doesn't allow her time to answer back, gliding his hand over her revealed stomach and drawing invisible circles in her skin with his index-finger. She gasps as a serge of energy overtakes her _entire_ lower-body, her eyes dilating as her breathing gets heavier. Her whole body jerks upwards, her center unintentionally brushing up against the front of his pants.

Feeling the brief connection, she let out of silent shriek of terror, one that made him narrow his eyes at her. His fingers dug into her stomach to try and keep himself silent, but still he let out a mangled grunt of some sort. Instead of helping him in the situation, his increased grip on her makes her ripple in pain, further enticing him to get to the climatic point in his 'story'. "Stop teasing me, Mireya," he says, growling at her. "I have to recite every part of this story, whether you are listening or not." Without warning, the air is once again taken from her mouth as he ravishes her bare, left breast with his mouth, stroking the nub with a flick of his tongue. He overtakes it with his mouth, sucking on it and giving her right breast equal treatment. She tries to stifle her moans with her hands, obviously aware that she still lets them out. He smirks as he removes her pants. She tenses up at the rapidness of it, biting her lower lip as he ventures to her focal-point, the place where all her passion is building up.

Carefully, he fits his fingers underneath the thin fabric, rubbing his hands very close to her core. She has never felt her body get so hot like this, and with the added pressure of his fingers—her mind is completely lost to him. Her rubs his fingers against her as her grip tightens around the sheets, trying to find a way out of his story—his game. He smirks at her as he ventures lower, finding himself meeting with her damp center. She lets out a gasp as he fingers her focal-point, breathing against her neck. "You have no idea Love... How annoying you truly are..." he says, panting as he tries to hold himself back. Her whole body ripples at his touch.

"Gen—_huah_—sis...!" she cries as his index-finger breaks through her barriers. "You—_ah_—Gene—sis—!" She can't even form a coherent statement. Her legs clench against his hand as he barges insides of her, smirking at his name falling from her lips. She closes her eyes, trying to stop her body from fighting against him. Still, he holds his ground. If anything, the way her legs lock up against him entices him further to take her. Her whole body trembles as he whispers things against her lips, slowly removing his finger from inside of her. She groans in disapproval, her legs twitching at the abrupt way he separates from her. With him on top of her now, she can feel him pressing against her focal-point—a bulge that refuses to go away—and just to get him back she begins to sway her body against it.

And he loves every second of it.

She stops moving, looking into his passion-ridden eyes. She has to let him know how she feels. "Genesis I—" she started, panting as he nipped at her neck. "I love you, Genesis!" she pants, trying to look the other way.

He smirks. He figures as much. "Doubt that the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move his aides, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love..." he mummers, reciting Shakespeare again for what must have been the fifteenth time already. "I already knew that, Love. I already knew you loved me—we do not need such words to express that feeling... Now silence, you are interrupting my story..." He kisses her once more and begins to remove the rest of her clothing, gliding his fingers across her bare body. She lets out sounds stifled by her hands, making him chuckle to himself. She sounds liked a lost cat, trying to find its way out of the darkness. He is her freedom. He is her salvation, and with the last of his clothes taken off, he is going to show her that he is her everything.

He is going to end all the lusting for her now. All of those days distancing himself from her are over. He will do what he wants now, _when_ he wants to do it. And for once, she is waiting for him._ Pleading_ for him. He had wanted her for so long—and tonight his wish will be granted. All thanks to The Goddess. He was finally going to have his gift. He doesn't hesitate. "You are my possession," he says, a dark tone to his voice. "You are mine and mine only, Mireya dear." He drives into her with force, making her meep in pain.

He must know that she is still a virgin, right?

And as much as she loves how he asserts his affection for him, it... _It hurts!_

She tries to adjust to his width and length, her body spasming as she holds in her screams. She begins to throw her arms into the air, not sure of what she should do. She grabs his jade-earring, pulling it as hard as she can. The earring _breaks,_ sending pieces bouncing everywhere on the floor. He ignores it, pushing deeper inside of her. He calms her down, placing his right hand on her stomach. Still, she grabs both of his arms, digging her fingers deep into his skin.

It isn't long before the pain eventually subsides. Something tugs at her soul—her being. A raging storm forms from her epicenter and ripples wildly throughout her body. She's never felt something like it before, and it overtakes her mind in an instant. She has yearned for him for far too long—wishing he would do something like this. Things like this only happen in her dreams, but now it is a reality. And she wants to take hold of it. She doesn't want to let it slip away from her fingers. "Genesis! Please—_hah_!" she utters, her whole body being sent into a frenzy of spasms. He grunts, smirking. He gladly will fulfill her wish. He slows down, as if meaning to tease her, sending shivers down her spine. In an instant, he starts to speed up, making her scream out—her cheeks turning crimson from embarrassment. He stops abruptly, kissing her trembling lips and pulling out of her—only to slam back inside of her, speeding up his rhythmical song.

She_ can't take it anymore,_ and neither can he.

She pants and moans, slowly losing her mind to this story—this poem—this new form of LOVELESS. With every new thrust he makes, a little part of her dies in the inferno of their heat, their fire. She can't control herself anymore, her body moving without her telling it to. He is no better himself—he lost his grip on reality a long time ago, the only thing set out in front of him is her desperate need to fill her hunger. He'll do anything for her, especially if it means granting him something in return. She feels imprisoned within her own body; all she can do now is cry out and look into his eyes. Their souls become one as he kisses her more, removing all the doubt and worry from her body. Cries of satisfaction escape her lips and he only wants to silence her.

Her grip on him is waning as she struggles to hold his arms. She doesn't know what to do now—every signal her brain gives her body is being intercepted by their intense passion for each other. What's worse is that the signals are being thrown away—tossed aside and never to be seen again. He brushes his head against her neck, inhaling her... Touching her... Being one with her... And as her walls clamps down on him, trying desperately to free herself from such a prison, he begins to whisper sweet-nothings into her ear. Sill he keeps the continuous beat he has come to maintain, pulling in and thrusting back into her, making her scream out loud because she doesn't know what else to do.

He bites her neck unintentionally, only trying to stop from losing himself any longer. Unfortunately he draws blood and she cries out in pain. She is only sidetracked by the roaring flame erupting from their bodies—forgetting about the trail of blood seeping from her neck. Perspiration dripping off both of their bodies, she opens her eyes, staring into his own. "Gen—_huah_—Shakespeare—_hah!" _All of a sudden she feels it. That gathering sensation—she doesn't know what to do with it and she doesn't know where to put it...! He begins to speed up his rhythm, making her grip the sheets with more persistence. She isn't letting go. Ignoring the tears running down her face, she begins to convulse, throwing her head back at the sudden burst of release. He stutters her name, breathing heavily.

Just the sound of her voice is enough to disrupt his flow, slowing down his story. He looks at her as she tries to recollect herself, his own muscles tensing up as his orgasm overtakes his own body. They look at each other as he collapses on top of her. She sighs, tilting her head at the First Class SOLDIER, ruffling up his hair. Their breathing returns to normal and she looks at the ceiling, closing her eyes and parting her lips. "Genesis," she mutters, brushing her fingers against the sides of his face. He glances at her, patting his hand on his torso.

"Hnn?" he answers, his aquamarine eyes shimmering. He notices how wrecked the room looks now... Clothes thrown all over the floor... Paperwork scattered everywhere...

"Go open my present..." she says softly, pointing to the red box sitting right next to the bed. He simply reaches over for it, propping the gift on his legs. He unravels the bow on top, tearing the decorative paper away from it. He expected there to be some kind of large item in it, but to his astonishment he notices a jade-green earring—much like the one she ripped out of his ear a couple of minutes ago—sitting inside of the box. He takes it out, smirking.

"Love is the most beautiful of dreams and the worst of nightmares," he says beneath his breath, quoting Shakespeare once more. She smiles at this, wiping some of her now oily hair out of her eyes.

"See? What did I tell you?" she says triumphantly. "I told you you would like it, didn't I?" He chuckles. He can't argue with that. "See, you should have just opened the box when I told you to, Genesis! Then you would have—"

"Love, wouldn't you have missed out on this golden opportunity if I would have opened the box?"

"That's not the point! I got you an epic gift, didn't I?"

He snickers under his breath. "So, are you saying that you did not enjoy what just went on, Mireya dear? You _love _me, remember?"

She wants to say something back to him, but her eyes soften. "Yeah Genesis. I really love you."

And they cuddle with each other, completely forgetting the fact they both have to work tomorrow morning under very harsh conditions.


End file.
